Notes: This is the rated R (or M) version. The uncensored version is at AFF and on my livejournal (link in profile). Also note that this was written before HBP, so there's a slight canon error. Oh well.

.-.

Harry could barely believe his luck. It was the eve before his final Quidditch match, and he was supposed to make sure that he kept his head—that he'd stay calm for the upcoming match—so that they'd win the Cup this year. The minute those double doors opened and in stepped Krum—Viktor Krum—his knees suddenly turned into mush.

"What the hell—why's Krum here?" moaned Ron, who was sitting next to him at the Gryffindor table.

"Good question," said Seamus, who was staring at the Bulgarian Seeker in confusion.

The silence that had fallen over the Great Hall broke into immediate clamor and grew even louder when Krum made his way toward the head table. Harry couldn't help staring at the well-known, talented, and mysterious man (he almost thought of calling him 'sexy' but quickly dismissed that thought). At first, during his fourth year, Harry couldn't quite understand why so many girls seemed to fancy Krum. It was probably because he was a famous Quidditch player, older, and very… well… mysterious. He may have a nose that was just as big as Snape's, but it didn't look too out of place from the rest of his facial features. So Harry had to admit that Krum wasn't too bad looking—for a Bulgarian.

He was mostly nervous, however, of playing a game while Krum was visiting. Viktor was known as one of the best Seekers in Europe, and the thought of him watching Harry—

"Harry? Harry!"

"Huh?" Harry turned his head around and noticed that Ron had been waving his hand in front of his face. "What, Ron?" he asked.

"Why do you reckon Krum's here?" Ron asked again. Harry just shrugged his shoulders. Did it really matter why he was there? Harry scanned the head table to get a clearer view of what was going on. There were a couple teachers missing, but Harry wasn't sure why.

"Hooch is missing," said Hermione suddenly. "Do you think--?"

"Oh, no…" Harry moaned, covering his face in his hands.

"Krum is our new coach? That's almost awesome," Ron said.

"Almost?" said Hermione.

"Yeah," said Ron, going slightly red. Harry rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another bout of jealous arguing. But before they could get into any kind of spat, Dumbledore stood and the room went dead silent.

"I am sad to report that Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey will be absent for the rest of the year, but here to take Madam Hooch's place is Mr. Viktor Krum whom I'm sure most of you know as the Bulgarian Seeker." The room filled with applause for Krum, who just nodded his head once. Snape was even clapping politely.

"And to take over for Madam Pomfrey," said Dumbledore when the noise quieted down, "will be Fleur Delacour." Everyone looked around in confusion. "She is not here yet," said Dumbledore. "As soon as she gets here, however, you must treat her as you would Madam Pomfrey… with respect. She is in the middle of being trained as a Healer for St. Mun…"

The double doors of the Great Hall banged open, interrupting the headmaster's speech.

"I am so sorry, Professor Dumbly-dorr," said Fleur as she jogged between two of the house tables toward the high table. "I did not mean to be late!"

"It's quite all right, Madam Fleur," said Dumbledore, "I was just telling the students about how you will be their new nurse for the time being."

"Merci," she said, unperturbed by all the stares she was receiving. Hermione had to nudge Ron in the side with her elbow to get him to close his mouth. Ron looked over at Hermione with a sheepish look and then wiped at his chin.

"Boys," Hermione muttered, sighing.

Harry, however, hadn't been staring dumbly at Fleur like all the other boys. Sure, she was very alluring, being that she was half-veela and all… but he still couldn't stop his eyes from wandering over at Krum, who'd been sitting at the head table in a rather haunty stature. Harry was so absorbed with him that he missed the rest of Dumbledore's speech.

When the food appeared, it startled Harry so much that he almost fell off his chair. Ron steadied him and gave him a questioning look. Harry ignored it.

During dinner, almost everyone was talking about either Krum or Fleur. Harry was one of the quiet ones. Ron would fill his mouth, like Harry, but he had the habit of talking with his mouth full, so he always ended up spitting some of his food onto others. Once in a while, Harry would look up from his plate and see Krum yakking at Snape or Fleur. He wasn't sure what the feeling in his stomach was as he stared at Krum's profile, but he knew it wasn't indigestion.

Finally, dinner was over and Harry stood up to make his way toward the common room. Ron and Hermione were hot on his heels, arguing about some sort or another. Harry ignored it as best he could, but then when he heard a certain name mentioned, his ears suddenly became radars.

"…You know damn well that the Slytherins would use Krum to their advantage! I say we get to him before they do."

"You're being silly, Ron!" Hermione huffed. "Krum's not going to take sides. Remember, he likes Harry. It doesn't matter that he used to sit at the Slytherin table and that Malfoy liked to talk to him a lot. I'm sure Viktor will be a fair coach."

"Oh, you really think so? Harry, what do you think?"

"I think I should talk to Krum," Harry said almost automatically.

"There!" Ron said in triumph to Hermione. "You see? Harry agrees with me."

"It's not to make sure that he does things fairly," Harry said quickly before Hermione could argue. "I just want to talk to him."

And before they could stop him, Harry turned and made his way to the teacher's staffroom. He had no idea why he made such a rash decision like that. He was going to think on things for a while first, and then go see Viktor, but now he found himself sprinting toward the staffroom's door hoping that Viktor was there already.

"Well, look who it is," said one of the gargoyle statues that guard the staffroom door. "It's our little sunny Jim."

"Let me guess," said the other gargoyle. "This is urgent?"

"Well, er…" said Harry. He looked around the hall, hoping to spot a late teacher, but there was none.

"If it isn't urgent, then go back to your dormitory."

Harry turned back round and glared at them. He was about to tell them where to go and how far to get there, but then he decided to not waste his breath, so he knocked on the door.

"Not good to waste the professors' time with teenage riff-raff."

"I'll show you riff-raff if you don't shut the fu—"

"Mr. Potter!" said the voice of Professor McGonagall. "What is it you want? Why aren't you in your common room?"

"Exactly what we were asking him," said a gargoyle.

"I—I wanted to speak to Viktor…"

"Not now, Potter," said McGonagall. "We're in the middle of a meeting."

"When will your meeting be over with?"

"We don't know. But if you want to speak to Krum you'll have to wait until morning before your game."

"But—but I need to speak to him now, before—before—"

"If you have anything that you wish to tell him now, then tell me and I'll relay the message."

Harry stared at McGonagall for a good while before shaking his head and saying, "It's ok, professor… I just wanted to make sure that he would be fair…"

"Of course he'll be fair, Potter! My word… you don't have to worry about the fairness of the match tomorrow. Now, go back to your dormitory and try getting a good night's sleep. You'll need it if you plan on winning the Quidditch Cup."

Harry knew it was useless to argue with McGonagall, so he just nodded and walked away.

.-.

Morning came, and Harry wasn't woken up by the sudden beam of sunlight that usually hit his eyes through the curtains; the sudden flash of light and sound of thunder jerked Harry awake so hard he felt like he was about to fall out of bed.

Harry opened his eyes in shock and stared at the window through the crack of his bed hangings, and the sight of dark clouds and raindrops greeted him. Groggily, Harry sat up and put on his glasses to peer more closely out the window. It was raining pretty heavy and Harry wasn't happy to know that he'd probably be playing for the Quidditch Cup in that storm.

He remembered that he wanted to talk to Viktor before practice, so Harry got out of bed as quickly as possible and got dressed. He had to wake Ron too, since he was the Keeper of their team, but he was hoping that he could talk to Viktor alone without have a grumbling Ron Weasley by his side. He loved the carrot-head, but sometimes Ron could get on his nerves.

Knowing he had no other alternatives, Harry shook Ron awake as hard as he could. Ron was more of a heavy sleeper than he was.

"Wha—what the bloody hell…"

"It's time to get up, Ron," said Harry as nicely as possible. "Time to do some warm-ups before the match."

"Bloody hell, Harry—can't you give a bloke at least another half hour of sleep? You know I need my rest before a match…"

"Sorry, Ron," said Harry, smirking. "But the storm woke me, and I thought now would be a good time to get up and—"

"Storm?" Ron groaned. He sat up slowly and looked out the window that was between their beds. "Oh, bloody hell!"

"That's the third time you've said that, Ron."

"Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell!"

"Got that out of your system now?" asked Harry, barely able to keep the amused smile off his face.

"No. Bloody hell, again! Do you know who will be refereeing our game? Well, do you?"

"Of course I do," said Harry, feeling as if there were lead settling in his stomach. "But we shouldn't let it effect us. I'm sure he'll be fair—let's go find him and talk to him first."

"Good thinking, Harry! Let's go!" Ron said more enthusiastically. Harry couldn't help snickering at how Ron had suddenly gone from dead tired to looking completely awake. At a more normal speed, Ron and Harry made their way down to the common room. Hermione was sitting by the fireplace, seemingly working on some project. When they entered the room and walked up to her, she looked up and smiled.

"About time you two got up. Harry, Viktor was just in here wondering if you were awake yet or not."

"I don't know," she said. "But I told him that you should be awake soon. He said that he heard you were wanting to talk to him and that if you still wish to talk he'll be waiting for you by the Gryffindor locker rooms."

He bolted out the portrait hole before either Ron or Hermione could ask questions.

.-.

He didn't mean to take off without Ron, but he had been hoping to be with Krum alone, and now he had his chance. But what drove him to want to talk to Krum alone in the first place wasn't exactly clear with him either. All he knew was that he needed to be close to the international Seeker, needed to hear him talk, to maybe touch him—perhaps he'll have some tips that he could pass on to Harry? But what kind of tips could Viktor Krum give him? Especially since he was already rather good at catching the Snitch.

Perhaps they could examine each other's brooms?

That thought went from a normal, everyday thought to straight into the gutter. Harry blushed hard, imagining what it would be like to be standing at the urinals in the boy's loo… peeking over at each other… checking each other out…

Harry found himself by the locker room before he knew it, face flushed pink and breathing labored. He spotted Krum almost right away, leaning casually against the wall next to the locker room's door. Krum noticed him too, and moved away from the wall in a way that made Harry's stomach flip. Duck-footed that Krum was, he still had a build that Harry admired.

"You haff come, Harry," said Krum. "You vanted to talk?"

Harry nodded, feeling a bit silly. Now that he was here, all alone with Krum, he wasn't sure what to say. Krum kept staring at him with such dark eyes—such dark, shining eyes—it made Harry shiver.

"I—I was surprised to find out that you'd be our new Quidditch coach," Harry said in a rush. "And Ron and I were hoping that you'd be fair—I mean, I know that you will be fair, and that you wouldn't take sides…"

"I haff already told Professor McGona-gull that I vouldn't favor one team over the other," said Krum. "You haff no vorries, Harry—I vill be fair."

Harry let out a slow breath. "That's good," he said. "Um—there's something else I wanted to talk to you about, but—but for the life of me, I can't remember—"

"Vell—I am sure you vill remember. You vish to practice now?"

"Oh, um, yes," said Harry. They stared at each other for a bit, and then Krum inclined his head slowly.

"You haff your broom?" Krum asked.

Harry's eyes widened in realization. Damn it, he forgot his broom! In all the excitement to getting down here to talk to Krum alone—

"Harry!" Ron shouted behind him. Harry turned quickly and saw that Ron was jogging up to them, with both of their brooms in hand. "Harry, you left in such a hurry that you—"

Ron handed over Harry's broom to him. "Well, don't do that again. You're lucky that I remembered, being the responsible Quidditch captain that I am."

Harry gave Ron a playful slap on the arm; Ron smirked at him.

"Vell then," said Krum. "Get out there and practice."

Ron's face went red so quickly Harry thought that Ron would pass out.

"Right," said Harry, smiling a bit shyly at Krum. "You heard the man, Ron; let's get a move on."

.-.

Practicing in the rain had its advantages and disadvantages. First off, Harry had to do that charm on his glasses to make sure they didn't get spotted with water drops so that he could see better. The rain, however, was still coming down pretty heavy and it still made things harder for Harry to see.

Advantage? A wet Viktor Krum. Their new referee had to watch their practice; just to be sure that everything was going swimmingly. Harry could barely find the Snitch as it was without having such a sexy—er—amazing flyer being in the same air space as himself. Oh, sure, he had been in the same air as Cho Chang, but at the time, the Snitch was way more important than staring at a pretty face. But Krum—Krum was an international Quidditch star; Krum was almost always nearby Harry, and Harry had to do his best not to let his eyes travel to Krum and his amazing flying skills instead of peering through the rain streaked sky for the Snitch.

Harry hoped that the practice wouldn't last long, because having to do this twice in one day would seriously drain him. While searching for the Snitch, he did see Ron block about three times against Ginny, but Ginny was a very good Chaser and got in about eight goals. Harry could say that they were both improving quite a bit. Their Beaters, however, haven't been doing too well in their department. Every time a Bludger came toward them for them to hit, they either missed and hit themselves with their own bats, or dodged the bludger just in time before it smashed into them.

Viktor must have seen them too, because he blew his whistle and ended the session. Ron looked rather relieved at that, as did a few others. They made their way to the ground and toward the locker room. Harry made sure to stick close by Krum when they landed.

"That vas, uh, not bad…" said Krum. He looked over at the Beaters, who were rubbing at their foreheads. "I think you had enough for today."

"We have our game against Slytherin this afternoon," said Harry. "Hopefully it won't be raining by then…"

"Hopefully," said Krum. He stared at Harry for a bit, making Harry feel self-conscious.

Viktor was still dripping wet, as were everyone else. Harry wiped at his own wet fringe and hairs on the side of his head that were sticking against his cheeks. Viktor, however, didn't bother with his wet curls that were stuck to his face and forehead. Harry wanted to move them out of his face for him…

"You vere distracted," Krum said suddenly, getting Harry out of his daydream. "You should not let that happen… I saw the Snitch twice, but you seemed to haff not."

Harry's eyes widened; he felt himself get sick. He never felt more humiliated before in his life—except for that time he fell off his own broom and let Cedric catch the Snitch…

"Wait," said Harry, "the Snitch…"

"I vill go get it," said Krum. Harry wasn't sure if he was disappointed by having to go out in the rain and get it—it was hard to tell. Harry still felt ashamed, though.

"I could—" Harry started.

"No," said Krum almost sternly. "I vill. You go eat."

And before Harry could say more, Krum walked out of the locker room and into the pouring rain.

.-.

Hermione sat between Harry and Ron at the table and began to pile food onto her plate. Harry didn't seem to notice as he kept staring at his own food as if willing it to Apparate into his stomach.

"So, how'd practice go?" she asked.

Ron groaned and put his face into his hands. Harry frowned deeper and shut his eyes as if in pain.

"That bad?" she said.

"It was horrible," said Ron. "I botched up a perfect block—and in front of Krum, no less!"

"You think YOU feel bad?" said Harry, eyes narrowing. "I couldn't find the blasted Snitch—and Krum said he had seen it twice… TWICE! Plus, he had to go back into the storm to get the Snitch… I feel so humiliated!"

"Don't let it get you down, guys," said Hermione. "It was only practice…"

"Yeah, and it shows just how rubbish we are," groaned Ron.

"He even said before that he thinks I fly well!" Harry said, still horrified. "Now he probably thinks I'm an idiot."

"He did say you were distracted," Ron pointed out. "You just have to make sure you're not during the game."

"Same goes for you, Ron."

"Yeah, yeah…" said Ron, looking mournfully into his potato soup. They both sat there, not eating, until someone walked up behind them, startling them.

"Harry? A vord?"

Harry felt as if his insides turned to ice. Hermione had to nudge him to get him to move; Harry nodded quickly at Krum, and then got up from his seat. He hadn't been able to eat anything anyway.

He followed Viktor into the hallway. Viktor shut the doors behind them and then stood in a dark corner. Harry moved carefully into the corner with Krum, wondering if he were going to be lectured or be given tips on how to stay focused.

"Harry," started Krum, "I vould like to apologize…"

"What?" Harry said, staring at the Bulgarian in surprise.

"I did not mean to make you feel… vot is the vord… inadequate? It is not my place to judge. I am only the coach. I am not your captain."

"Oh, it's ok… really," said Harry.

"No, it is not," said Krum. He did look a bit remorseful. "I haff no right to do that… I know I vas making you nervous—"

"Well…" said Harry. He looked down at his shoes. "I was a little intimidated, I admit… but it's not your fault. You're right," he looked back up into Krum's face. "I should have kept my focus on the game at hand, even if it was only a practice. I let myself get distracted and that was uncalled for."

Surprisingly, Viktor smiled. "You are a vonderful person, Harry Potter. I hope to do a practice game—or some kind of game—with you some day."

Harry felt his cheeks color. "Seriously? You want to—to play with me?"

"Of course," said Krum, smiling slightly. "You are a great flyer and the youngest Seeker of the century, aren't you?"

"Well—" said Harry, going even redder. "Well, yeah, I am…"

"And you are very powerful…"

"Now, that's just a load of crap…"

"It is?" said Krum, looking surprised. Harry stared up at him. He just realized that Krum was only a few inches taller than he was. Krum's hair still looked slightly damp, as if he never really dried it with a towel—that he just let it dry naturally. Surprisingly, Harry felt his pants tighten by just staring into Krum's face. When did he start feeling such things for Viktor Krum, let alone other boys?

"Um…" said Harry. Krum was suddenly closer.

"I think you are," he said.

"Are what?" said Harry as he started to get lost in those dark eyes.

"Powerful."

"Oh—well…" Harry didn't know what to say. To tell Viktor Krum of all people that he thought he wasn't very good… he didn't want to make himself sound like an idiot, after all.

Harry jumped slightly when he felt Viktor's fingers brush against his temple, and then his glasses were suddenly gone. Viktor had just taken them off. Harry opened his mouth to either object or ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, when Viktor was suddenly so close to his face that he could see bits of gold laced into the brown of Viktor's eyes.

"And you haff the most… stunning eyes. I haff never seen such a bright… bright, leafy green in eyes before."

Harry's throat constricted. His legs went numb.

"Or such a strong jaw on a sixteen year old…"

"Viktor…" said Harry, sounding so wanton it scared him.

"And such raven black hair…" Viktor brought a hand up and touched the ends of Harry's fringe. It was a very light, feathery touch and it made Harry shiver.

"Your—your hair is…" Harry tried to say that Viktor's hair was black like his, but then his brain shut down when he felt Viktor's rough lips over his.

All the blood from his brain seemed to decide that going to the groin was the best possible place to be. His treacherous hormones made his cock so impossibly hard he thought that his buttons were about to pop off. Viktor smelled like rain and something all together foreign. Harry's head swam.

Just when Harry was getting used to having Viktor's lips on his, Viktor pulled away. With hooded eyes, Harry stared at the bulkier man. Viktor looked rather pleased, but at the same time, anxious. He must be wondering if what he did was all right or not. Harry let out a long breath.

"Viktor—that was—that was…"

There was a sudden commotion from the doors of the Great Hall and it made them both jump in a guilty way. Viktor then pushed Harry's glasses back into Harry's hand.

"I must go," said Krum. He didn't leave right away; he continued to stare into Harry's eyes, seeming as if in a daze, and then he turned to go back into the Great Hall. Harry stood there for a few more seconds before finally finding his own feet. He didn't go back into the Hall, however. Harry decided that going up to the Gryffindor common room was the best choice. Besides, he had some serious wanking to do.

.-.

The heavy rain had let up. It would sprinkle just a little, for a short time, but then stop and the sun would shine warmly over his cheeks. There had been a faint rainbow when they walked out onto the pitch for the beginning of their match, but it seemed to have disappeared for the time being.

Before the match even begun, Viktor had reminded Harry that he was sure that he, Harry, would do just fine and that he should make sure to keep his focus on finding the Snitch. Harry was now circling the pitch, keeping his eye out for the faintest glint of gold. He passed Draco Malfoy a few times already in the search for it and it seemed that, thankfully, Malfoy hadn't spotted it either. Harry was a bit nervous, but only because he didn't want to lose the Cup to Slytherin in front of Viktor. That would be the most embarrassing thing to happen to him to date.

Although Harry felt rather warm in his Quidditch robes, the air was crisp and cool against his face. Once in a while he'd feel a drop of rain on his cheek or forehead, but he luckily had his glasses charmed so that they wouldn't get wet if any drops of rain tried to fall on them. A part of him wished that it was raining a bit harder so that he could stare at another wet Viktor Krum, but he knew that doing such a thing would only distract him and that was something he couldn't afford doing right now.

The others on the team were doing ok, except that Sloper had accidentally hit a bludger toward one of their own Chasers making her drop the Quaffle. One of the Slytherin Chasers had caught it from right below her and went off toward the end where Ron was. Thankfully, Ron had blocked the goal attempt (it bounced off Ron's head) and after catching the Quaffle, he quickly passed it to Ginny, who took it and swerved around everyone toward the other end. To almost everyone's surprise, Ginny had scored a goal, and now it was twenty to forty, which for them wasn't too bad.

Harry thought he would be searching for the Snitch for a bit more, but then he finally spotted it flittering at the other end of the pitch. Making sure that Malfoy didn't notice that he noticed, Harry flew toward the other end as inconspicuous as he could before dive-bombing toward the Snitch.

The minute he started to dive, he heard their new commenter, Dean Thomas, shouting excitedly. Then, suddenly, Malfoy was right behind him in the same dive. Harry didn't want to let Krum down and refused to give up the chance of winning the house cup simply because of nerves.

But, within a few seconds, the Snitch had suddenly zipped away, leaving Harry still in a nose-dive. It was happening so fast that Harry wasn't sure which way the Snitch went—all he knew was that the ground was getting closer and closer. He was about to swerve off to the side when an idea struck. . . . .

The Wronski Feint.

Instead of slowing down, Harry sped up. Malfoy, who was still behind him, kept following close behind—probably thinking that Harry had still spotted the Snitch. Just as he was a few feet from the ground, Harry turned upward sharply—pulling out of the dive just in time.

Draco, however, couldn't stop in time and smashed right into the ground.

The Gryffindors all stood up and cheered so loudly that Harry couldn't hear what Dean was screaming. Harry dodged an aimed bludger that was hit toward him and easily found where the Snitch had gone. He didn't even notice that the rain began to pour harder as he stretched out his arm and wrapped his fingers around the vibrating ball.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" shouted Dean, and everyone that had been rooting for them jumped up and down or screamed with glee. When Harry zoomed by the area where the teachers and other staff members were, he saw Professor McGonagall wiping away a few joyful tears with a hankie and Hagrid's beaming, proud smile.

"Join me in a drink?" Krum said, and Harry felt as if his broom had suddenly taken off without him.

"Yeah," he said, breathless. "Yeah… I would love to."

.-.

The room was warm and cozy looking. The fireplace across from them had a roaring, handsome fire crackling in it; the decorations all around the walls and on the mantle were gold and copper; the chandelier above them was made of crystal; the rugs, curtains and sofa was burgundy and black. Harry felt so comfortable, as if he were in the Gryffindor common room or dormitory. Harry sat on the sofa while Viktor got their drinks from the liquor cabinet. He smiled at Harry as he carefully walked over.

"You are beautiful ven you fly," said Viktor as he handed Harry his drink.

"Thank you," said Harry, blushing. He took a small sip of his drink and then almost choked.

"Oh, sorry," said Viktor, smiling slightly. "I forgot that you are not used to such strong beverages."

Harry set down his short glass on the mahogany coffee table in front of them. Viktor sat right next to Harry, still staring.

"It's fine," said Harry. "Thanks."

Viktor sipped his own drink and Harry wasn't surprised that he didn't choke or cough. Viktor set his glass down next to Harry's, and then moved closer to him. Harry felt his chest tighten.

Harry felt his heart hammering harder than it had back when he was doing the Wronski Feint. His mouth had gone dry and he felt as if he had the chills.

But he wanted those warm lips on his again; he wanted to feel the other Seeker's build pressed tightly against his; he wanted to feel that bulkier, taller body pressing him into the sofa with his weight…

Harry shifted a little closer as he steeled his nerves.

"Go ahead," he whispered, tilting his head a little. Viktor didn't say or ask anything more and lowered his head down to meet Harry's lips.

It was just as tender and warm as the first, but more passionate. Harry felt Viktor part his lips slightly over his, and Harry mirrored him, parting his lips. The moment Harry parted them, Viktor slowly slipped the tip of his tongue into his mouth, and it sent a tremor through his body. Viktor had felt it and placed both hands onto Harry's back. He pulled Harry closer to his body, rubbing lightly; Harry's shivers slowed down and soon they were kissing each other deeply—lips running, gliding over each other's smoothly . . . . Just like flying—just like flying…

Viktor lain Harry down gently, never taking his lips off of his, as he began to unbutton Harry's shirt. Harry keened softly and moved his legs so that they were on either side of Viktor's body. Viktor fit himself between Harry's legs, pressing his weight onto Harry. Harry moaned at the feel of being sandwiched between Viktor and the couch.

When Viktor released Harry's mouth, he was still only a few inches away from Harry's face. He removed Harry's glasses and set them on the coffee table without looking, and then softly kissed Harry's lower lip. Harry let out a puff of warm air and fluttered his eyes closed. He didn't want tonight to ever stop. He wanted all of Viktor or he was afraid he'd die.

.-.

Harry rushed to the hospital wing with Hermione. He had been so involved with Viktor that he didn't think that anyone from the Quidditch team was liable to get attacked for his own actions. From what Hermione had quickly told him, Ron had been just coming back from the Quidditch showers after their victory and been attacked by Malfoy and his goons. They were apparently angry that Harry had been able to pull off the Wronski Feint against Draco.

"Ron!" said Harry as he walked up to Ron's bed. "Are you all right, mate?"

"I will be," said Ron, looking pleased to see Harry. "Where were you, by the way? Where'd you and Krum go?"

Harry colored, biting his lower lip and looked down at his shoes. "Well, um… we had a drink… not much, though, and… well… just talked and stuff…"

"Just talked? For five hours?"

Harry went even redder. They looked at him suspiciously, and Harry gave them his 'leave it out' look the best he could.

"So, did Malfoy get into trouble for attacking you?" asked Harry, hoping to change the subject.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron. He crumpled up the sheets in his fist. "After I had explained to Professor McGonagall about it all."

"What did he do?"

"Well, first he started in on the usual insults, which I think are getting a bit old, myself. Then he went on insinuating that you and Viktor are, um…" here Ron blushed.

"Are what?" Harry asked.

Ron kept his eyes averted as he said, quietly, "Are shagging. But I don't believe it one bit."

Hermione looked back and forth at them, noticing how red Harry was getting, and then was about to say something about that when she noticed something else.

"Harry? Um… were you attacked too?"

"What?" said Harry.

"Well, it's just that you have a large bruise on your neck."

Harry's eyes went so wide and his face was so red that it made Ron and Hermione go deadly silent.

"It's nothing," Harry croaked. "So… what did Malfoy do after insinuating things… you didn't attack him first, did you?"

"Er, well… I started to, but then Ginny and Hermione kept me from laying a hand on him. But then I said something about him and his goons and it must have pissed Malfoy off because then he took out his wand and hexed me. Oh, THEN Ginny and Hermione started to defend me!"

"Malfoy hexed you first, so it's only fair," said Hermione in a snotty tone. "Anyway, Harry, don't change the subject. How'd you get that bruise?"

Harry stood stock still, trying to come up with a good excuse, when Fleur came in.

"Oh!" she said, "Bonjour, 'arry! Don't you worry about your friend. 'E is doing just fine. 'E zould be better very soon!"

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry. He turned back to Ron. "Well, get better, ok? I'll be in the common room."

"But, Harry!" shouted Hermione as Harry made his getaway. It wouldn't do to tell them of his affair with Viktor just yet. Even Seekers had their secrets.

End.

Yes, this is it. The End. No more. (unless I get an idea for a sequel, otherwise, this is it. End.)

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